


golden like daylight

by trulymadlyhayley



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cheeky Harry, Child Abuse, Domestic Boyfriends, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Guard Harry, Implied/Referenced Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Mpreg, Prince Louis, Sarcastic Louis, balls (as in balls in a ballroom), im kidding theres no mpreg, more like enemies with benefits, no smut i think, royal, theres two weddings in this one, they're both broken though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:22:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29677653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trulymadlyhayley/pseuds/trulymadlyhayley
Summary: "Don't you dare fall for me.""Never."Or the one in which Louis is a sarcastic, arrogant prince, with family problems and little care for anyone or anything and Harry is his cheeky but broken guard who hates everything about the royal family.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Kudos: 6





	golden like daylight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lena because i love her](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lena+because+i+love+her).



> hi!
> 
> I've had this idea for probably a year now, but only started writing it about two months ago. i never had the motivation, and now that i do, I don't have the time, so it's been a long ride. 
> 
> still, i've finally gotten to a spot in which i think i can post this first chapter. it's more of a get-to-know-the-characters type of chapter rather than a cut-right-to-the-story-line type of chapter, so bare with me. 
> 
> the characters portrayed in this story are in no way how i view them in real life. their personalities and stories, along with the setting and plot, are all fiction and created by me. furthermore, Louis' father is portrayed in a terrible light throughout the story, and therefore i didn't feel comfortable connecting his character with a real person, which is why the king has a completely made up name. 
> 
> the setting, as aforementioned, is fiction. I don't have much of a vision for it to be honest, but I just picture it as a castle surrounded by a village. on the outskirts of the village are towns, cities, beaches, and just anything that makes up a society. it's set in a completely made up time as well, there is no technology, but it's not medieval either. the setting doesn't really have any significance in the story anyways, and the important stuff will be mentioned in the writing.
> 
> after writing out the general plot line i went in search for a song that could work as a title and found Daylight by Taylor Swift to be a perfect match. I'll say it's loosely based on the song, but in reality my story line and her song just fit really well together.
> 
> in regards to how this story is set up, there will be 6 parts, and each part will have a few chapters in it (apart from part 6, which will only include the epilogue). each part will start with a few lines from Daylight that explain the "feel" i guess you could say, of the chapters from that part. it's just a cool way to incorporate the song with the story.
> 
> there are themes of child abuse, please do not read if you do not feel comfortable reading about it. i want everyone to feel safe!
> 
> finally, i'd like to thank everyone and anyone who has supported me writing this, the kinkies especially, you all are so amazing and without your support and enthusiasm this would've never happened. i hope everyone of you reading this enjoys and sticks with it !

* * *

_My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in_

  
_Everyone looked worse in the light_

  
_There are so many lines that I've crossed unforgiven_

  
_I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye_

-

The soft rays of daylight shine through the long windows of the room, but Louis still feels engulfed in darkness. His eyes have not yet adjusted to the light as it is so early in the morning and his head is woozy with sleep. 

He folds his hands in his lap softly and lets himself close his eyes for a few seconds, urging his brain to shut up so he can get a few more moments of peace. He doesn’t exactly get much peace in his life. 

Louis Tomlinson was 19 years old when his life turned to shit. His mother passed away and he was left with a father, Charles Tomlinson, who could not give a shit about him or his sisters. If he was a normal 19 year old, he would’ve scooped up his 3 sisters and taken care of them by himself the second they were left alone with his father, but seeing as he isn’t a normal 19 year old he's stuck. 

Louis is a prince. Not just any prince, the future king, and therefore there's a whole lot riding on him. The future of the entire kingdom is basically in his hands, and to leave it would be selfish. Louis knows this, yet sometimes his mind will wander and he considers dropping everything and running away. He never does though, he’s far too prideful to do that. He expects too much out of himself to ever actually leave, but the daydreams were comforting anyways. 

He’s in the middle of one currently, (in this one him and his sisters live in a small cottage on the outskirts of the country near the ocean) about 8 months after his mother’s death, sitting at one of his father’s meetings trying not to look as bored as he is. Apparently he’s not trying hard enough though because his father’s sharp kick comes from under the table and shocks him back into focus. He tries to shake out the pain in his calf, but the kick was unnaturally hard and Louis doesn’t exactly have a high pain tolerance. 

He focuses his attention on the room around him in order to blur out the pain. This is by far one of his favorites in the castle. The high ceilings were decorated with art made by his father’s favorite painters, and they had done a fantastic job. Pictures of angels and clouds littered the ceiling above him and made him feel as if he was on another planet. The walls are just as beautiful, even though they aren’t covered in artwork and the high columns that rise to the ceiling are carved perfectly. His personal favorite part though, are the walls lined with bookshelves filled to the brim. The whole room’s aesthetic just calmed Louis, and often he’d find himself sitting in there just to think or to read peacefully.

The voice of his best friend, Zayn, finally convinces him to start listening to the meeting. “Louis, what are you thinking?” 

Louis is not thinking. “Hmm?” He places his elbow on the table in front of him and rests his chin in his hand, his posture and demeanor showing that he couldn't care less. Louis had learned a long time ago that pretending to know what you were talking about when you didn’t was a lot more embarrassing then proudly admitting you had no clue. It gave the impression that you didn’t care (which in this case, Louis actually didn’t care) and a lot of the time it was intimidating.

The men around the table all nervously chuckle, looking in between Louis and his father, probably wondering if they’re response is the correct one. Louis enjoys it of course, but his father’s glare makes it apparent that he is not amused. Zayn smirks a little from across the table, the curve of his lips almost making a smile, but not quite. Louis suppresses a grin himself. 

His father gives a haughty laugh a few seconds later and then claps a strong hand against Louis’ back. Louis grits his teeth together and focuses on Zayn’s face in order to stay calm. Zayn’s smirk has now gone completely and he’s looking warily at his best friend, as he always does when Louis’ dad gets too close. 

“Such a trickster my son is, eh?” The room is tense, a few advisors laugh but others just stare. Louis rolls his eyes. _Useless, spineless, eels, all of them._

“Mhm, he is a funny one,” Zayn’s silvery voice says to break the tension, his eyes not faltering away from Louis. _Okay, not all of them._ Louis doesn’t love a lot of people, but he sure as hell loves Zayn and it’s in moments like these, when everyone else backs away but Zayn stays unfettered, that he remembers why. 

Louis’ father is fuming, but Zayn isn’t affected in the least bit. On the contrary, it’s the exact reaction that Zayn had hoped to inspire. Because when the King is mad…

“Meeting adjourned.” Louis’ father rips his hand from Louis’ back and storms out the room, not caring to say a proper goodbye to any of the advisors who spent time out of their day to listen to him. When Charles is mad he usually runs, because when he doesn’t things get messy and he cannot afford to get messy in front of his advisors, who are already on the brink of deeming him unfit to rule.

There are a number of wrongdoings Louis’ father has committed over the years. Louis has a list, actually, that sits in the top drawer of his desk. He reads it to himself every once in a while to remind himself that he is not his father, no matter how similar they may seem to the outward eye.

Louis gets a lot of his traits from his father- his hair, his eyes, his slight temper problems, his arrogance, his title- but the small distinctions between the two men are the ones that set them apart entirely. Louis’ temper problems, however hard they are for him, do not usually end in other people’s pain while on the other hand, when Louis’ father is mad, everyone else feels his wrath. While Louis’ arrogance makes him strive to become better than everyone (more than he already is of course) it drives his father to believe he can never be wrong. 

They were alike and yet so, so different. Louis likes to focus on the differences, hence, his list.

Everyone in the room starts to make small talk as soon as Charles is gone, as they always do. There’s no tension or stress once he’s left the room, and everyone feels safe to talk freely, even with Louis there. Louis’ made it clear from the start he did not care even a little about what they said in regards to his father or his policies, he actually enjoyed hearing their complaints. He’d store all of them on his list so when he was finally King he could make sure not to make the same mistakes. He wanted to be better, he had to be better. 

Another half an hour of listening into conversation and Louis pretending as if he truly cares about his advisors' families and the crowd finally starts to die out. Once everyone starts to say their goodbyes, Louis and Zayn stay back with each other and watch each advisor walk through the door until there is no one left but the two of them. Zayn pulls out two cigarettes before Louis can even cross the room to get to him, placing one in between his lips and handing the other to Louis, who accepts it gratefully. He could use some calming down. 

After a minute of silence filled with a match and a bout of deep intakes of breath, Louis breaks the silence. “Do you reckon I should start actually paying attention?” It comes out as a breathy laugh, but they both know he’s being a bit serious. 

“Maybe a little. Soon it’ll be you alone at the head of the table,” Zayn raises his eyebrows and then takes another drag of his cigarette. Louis rolls his eyes, but smiles a bit to himself. He would like the power and authority, but he would love the feeling of being superior to his father for once. That seat at the head of the table would secure his position in court as higher than his fathers’. Louis can not wait for the day. 

“Eh, probably won’t do it anyways.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Louis laughs, but Zayn only smirks, trying to hide his amusement. 

“Wanna go find Ni and then find something fun to do tonight?” Zayn asks, throwing his finished cigarette towards the ashpan. Louis follows his lead and then nods. Ni, or Niall, was their other best friend. Unlike them, he hadn’t been born into a rich family, but had worked his way up to a Palace job. He was now Louis’ personal assistant, and therefore got to do basically whatever he wanted around the palace. The two of them had become quick friends the first day Niall had showed up in Louis’ room. Neither had pretended to be shy, and they learned fast that their personalities mashed well. Louis had introduced him to Zayn the following day, and since then the three of them had been basically inseparable. They spent most of their free time together, roaming around the palace, causing a bit of trouble, and following Niall around the village looking for a party in some sort of pub. 

The two of them wander around the huge Palace for only ten minutes before Louis gets restless.

“We aren’t going to be able to find him if we keep walking aimlessly.” Zayn shushes him with a swipe of his hand and then uses that same hand to point down the hallway at a loud, laughing, blonde haired boy. His hair was spiky, as it usually was since he refused to do any work on it, his blue eyes were shining through the lenses of his glasses, and his white collared shirt was rumpled completely as if he hadn’t ironed it in years. He probably hadn’t. Niall wasn’t exactly neat. 

But he was friendly. “Zayn! Louis! I haven’t seen the two of you since yesterday.” It doesn’t sound like such a long time, but Louis, Zayn, and Niall spend so much time together that after a while they had gotten used to constantly being by each other's side. It feels weird and sort of lonely to be away for even a day. 

Niall says a quick goodbye to whomever he was talking to, a boy with brown hair and an aggressive tattoo on the side of his arm, and then comes rushing over to Zayn and Louis and proceeds to wrap an arm around each of their backs. Louis pushes his arm away and scoffs, but Niall takes no offense. Niall doesn’t really take offense to anything, he cared too little about other people’s opinions to feel offended. He wasn’t totally unaffected by what other people said, no one was, but he definitely cared less than the average person. It was something Louis always envied, he wished he didn’t care. 

“Know of any fun we can have tonight?” Zayn asks Niall after he’s sure they’re out of earshot of anyone in the hallways. It wasn’t forbidden per say, but it was highly frowned upon for a prince or the son of a noble advisor to be partying down in the village with the villagers. No one in the village cared to tell anyone in the palace if they saw Zayn or Louis, but if someone in the palace heard anything about it, the story would certainly get around and it would somehow get to Zayn or Louis’ fathers. Then shit would hit the fan. The two of them would never hear the end of it. 

“Always,” Niall smirks mischievously and Louis can’t help but laugh at the look on his face. “Wear something not so nice, I don’t feel like getting mugged again.” 

“Oh shut up, that was a one time thing!” Louis complains. Long story short, Louis wore his new, super nice suit and they ended up losing every ounce of money they had. Louis had paid Niall back whatever he had lost, and Niall hadn’t really been mad in the first place, but boy did he love bringing it up. 

“See you at 6? Garden spot?” It’s more of a command then a question but Louis and Zayn nod nonetheless. 

“Whatever.”

“Love you!” 

-

Louis leaves his room at 5:30 for Niall’s. He had spent the last hour scrambling around his huge ass closet and could not find a single thing to wear that wouldn’t get him robbed. Well, he thought he found a perfect outfit but after having a vivid flashback to their last night out he decided it was best to go to Niall and get confirmation, just in case. 

On his way though, he’s stopped by his younger sister, Lottie, who’s goal in life seems to be annoying him. “Louis! Wait up!” She runs to catch up with him, almost tripping on her dress as she does so, but Louis doesn’t slow down. 

“I don't have time to chat,” he growls, not bothering to look at her. 

Her long blonde hair is whipping in front of him before he has any time to dodge her though and she uses her small, but quick body to block him from moving around her. He rolls his eyes in frustration and stares down at his pesky sister, feeling as though he could throw her. 

“What do you want?” 

“Where are you going?” She crosses her arms over her chest and holds her chin up, a habit that she’s taken up ever since she turned 13 and developed a sense of superiority to everyone. Louis hated girls, they all seemed to act superior. He only knew a few, some princesses that were often around with their fathers for political purposes, but he was never very fond of spending time with them. Okay to be truthful, he didn’t hate them all persay, he would just rather be in Niall and Zayn’s company than a girl’s. Unfortunately, his friends seemed to be the opposite. Whenever a girl visited the palace they would spend their time chasing her. 

“I fail to see how that is your business.” Lottie scoffs and hits Louis across the chest with the back of her hand. 

“Louis Tomlinson, where are you going?” 

“No where that concerns you.” Louis grabs a hold of his sister’s small wrist and pushes her away from him. He uses her moment of backwards stumbling to start off towards Niall’s room again. 

Louis loved Lottie, of course he did, but the thing about her was that she was a loud mouth. She couldn’t be trusted with anything. She loved secrets, she loved talking and she especially loved gossip, so consequently she was one of the least trustworthy people Louis knew. So no, he would not be telling her where he was going. 

“I hate you,” she grumbles, giving up and stomping in the opposite direction of her brother. Louis laughs a little to himself as her heels click farther and farther away from him and then sets off in a rush to Niall’s room. 

He gets there in no time, and stumbles through the door, panting, earning himself a confused smile from a half naked Niall. “Hi?” 

“Hey,” Louis breathes out, trying to fill his lungs up with air simultaneously, which obviously doesn’t work. Niall simply laughs at him and leads him over to the bed. He disappears into his closet for a minute and when he returns he’s holding a plain white short sleeve shirt in his hand, one that’s immensely less expensive than anything Louis could’ve picked from his closet. 

“Change,” Niall orders, handing his friend the cheap shirt. Louis glares a bit so Niall adds a quick “Please.” 

As Louis changes he takes a look out the huge windows that line the side of Niall’s room and notices that it’s already turning dark, meaning if they didn’t leave soon the Palace doors were going to close and getting out was going to be a lot more complicated. Louis’ dad had enforced the closing of the doors ever since his mothers’ death, thinking it was the citizens' fault for her illness. From then on, the doors were only open for a few hours during the afternoon, so that exports and imports could leave and come into the palace. 

The rule had always irked Louis, not because he so badly wanted to be able to go to the village, but because his mother had always been an advocate of keeping the palace open for citizens. Some of them had questions or proposals for the King and his advisors, some wanted a chance at a job (other than the draft), but most just needed the warmth sometimes. Louis’ mother had always been compassionate for them, and it seemed as soon as she was gone, all of his father’s compassion went with her (not that he had much in the first place). 

Niall comes up behind Louis, now fully dressed in dark pants and a grey button down. His hair, as always, is not done, but his glasses are on, which tells Louis he’s going to be on his game tonight. Niall loved to wear his glasses when flirting because he claims they make him look more “sophisticated”. Louis likes to tell him they just make him look like a “twat”. 

Niall runs his hand through Louis’ hair and Louis shoves him away quickly, dodging away from his other hand. “Hey! Just because your hair is a mess, doesn’t mean mine has to be too!” 

“Girls like messy hair, and I’m getting you laid tonight.” 

“Niall-”

“Or boys…”

“Niall!”

“What Louis? You’re always so uptight, you need to calm down and relax a bit. A blow job could really help.” Niall shrugs and smirks sheepishly. This conversation was pretty much a daily thing that had started about a month ago and had made no progress since the first day. Niall was convinced that a blowjob would relieve all of Louis’ problems. Louis was convinced that Niall was full of shit. He had gotten blowjobs before, and they surely weren’t life changing. What he needed was to be King, not a blowjob from some random girl in the village. 

“Shut it Ni, I am not uptight.” Okay, so Louis knows that’s not entirely true, but he wasn’t going to admit to it. He didn’t used to be uptight, and he was working towards being that boy again, it was just… hard. Well, it was really fucking hard not to be so uptight after everything that happened to him. Niall seems to realize it and his face falls into something much more sympathetic. 

“I know, I know. Just come on,” Niall wraps an arm around Louis’ back and starts to lead them out the door. “Let’s get out of here before the doors close.” Louis relaxes a bit and lets himself wrap an arm around Niall while they walk around the Palace towards the back doors that’ll lead them to the garden. 

The garden had always been their spot. Louis, Niall, and Zayn had spent one long day in the smothering heat in the garden together, after they had fought for the first time over something trivial and Lottie had decided to punish them. Well, she says she was just trying to help, but locking them out didn’t seem very helpful. 

“Talk and make up and I’ll let you back in,” she had said before slamming the door in their faces. 

It had taken about an hour for Niall to break, laughing hysterically at the situation and the looks on Louis and Zayn’s face. He had called them “rich, dumb, wankers” and suddenly the three of them were laughing together as if they were best friends again. Louis had told him to shut up and Zayn had flipped him off, but they were laughing so much the sentiment was lost. The rest of the day they ran around the garden, spraying each other with water and screaming relentlessly. Louis and Zayn had to endure an hour long scolding from each of their fathers’, but it really didn’t matter to them at all.

From that day on, they deemed the garden as their spot. They came there to talk, or smoke, and sometimes have a sleepover, and once they got old enough to sneak out, they would meet here to do just that. 

Zayn is already waiting when Niall and Louis show up, his foot is propped up against the wall behind him, a cigarette in his left hand. His hair isn’t messy like Louis and Niall’s, but it’s not gelled either. There's a headband pulling the front pieces back so they’re out of his face and that’s about it. 

“Do girls like headbands too?” Louis jokingly whispers to Niall as they approach Zayn, sending Niall into a fit of laughter. 

Niall’s still laughing when they reach Zayn and his eyebrows raise in question. 

“I like your headband,” is all Louis says, which sends Niall over the edge. Zayn flips off his friends but asks no further questions, probably fearing that he’ll be laughed at rather than answered again. They start off towards the gates now, Niall still laughing and Zayn still smoking. Louis is just breathing, letting himself really enjoy his friend's company and the peaceful quiet of the night before he’s immersed into a sea of people, lights, beer, and noise. 

He used to like partying a lot more when he was younger and crazier. He would spend long nights in the club with girls he didn’t even know the names of, drinking, screaming, dancing. He didn’t have a care in the world about what the people thought about him, and he was ready and willing to talk to any of them and have a good time.

Ever since his mother’s death though, he’s lost that part of himself. He’s always stressed, he hates dancing, and he hates meeting new people even more. Every new person he met, every new person he had a good time with, was another person he could lose. He hated even looking at people now, scared that he would get attached and then boom, they’d be gone. 

Still, he accompanies Zayn and Niall wherever they go, which most of the time meant a party. Because boy, do Zayn and Niall like to party. 

Zayn loves the feeling of not caring. He likes to forget about his problems, unlike Louis who feelsbuncomfortable if he isn’t constantly overwhelmed. He spends most of his nights getting high and drunk, dancing a bit, but mostly spending his time alone in a corner watching everyone else and relaxing in his own company. 

Niall loves the social aspect. Getting to talk to as many people as he can, laughing at every joke made even if it was from across the room. He’ll find a way to cut into every conversation, desperate for any type of human interaction. And he loves hookups. Niall absolutely loves hookups. 

So between Zayn’s hunger for letting go and Niall’s need for attention, they naturally spend a lot of time in pubs. 

The three of them make it out of the gates less than a minute before the screeching alarm signals that they’re about to close. They hide in the shadows of the large bushes, waiting for the workers to pack up and finally finish for the night. After only a few minutes there are only two guards left outside and it’s clear for them to leave their hiding space. They sprint through the darkness, Louis hushing Niall’s laughter and Zayn running ahead to show off. 

Once they’re completely out of view they slow their pace down a bit and return to talking, Niall telling them about the _crazy_ day he had and the new kitchen boy he had met named Liam. 

“Was that the boy you were talking to before?” Zayn asks, throwing his finished cigarette to the side and wringing his hands together. 

“Yeah, why? You know him?” 

“No.” Niall and Louis both ignore the vagueness of his reply, Zayn was usually vague. 

“A bunch of the guards got switched too. A lot of palace guards were sent to the border and border guards were sent to the Palace,” Niall explains. “I think your father’s trying to replace everyone.”

“I don’t doubt it. That’s what he does when he gets bored.” As always, with conversations regarding Louis’ father, the talk ends quickly and a new subject is brought up. Louis hates speaking about his family, and Zayn and Niall are happy to oblige. 

The rest of the walking time is spent peacefully, Niall explaining the gossip he had heard (there was a lot of gossip for such a small Palace), and Zayn and Louis pretending to act interested. Louis mostly plays with a hangnail on his thumb absentmindedly, staring at his surroundings and taking in the smoke that Zayn’s exhaling. He nods every once in a while when he feels as if Niall can tell he isn’t listening though, just to keep up appearances. 

When they arrive at the first pub of the night, there are already crowds of people forming outside the front door, begging to be let in. Niall explains that a well-known, “super-rad” (Louis doesn’t have the energy to ask what that means), band is playing tonight and everyone wants front row tickets. 

Niall leads the boys to the end of the line and waits impatiently, bouncing on the balls of his feet and chewing on his lip, a huge smile protruding on his face. Every few seconds, Louis can see him extending his head over the crowd to see how much closer they are to the entrance, even though they don’t move a muscle. 

“What’s so cool about this band?” Louis asks, trying to make conversation in order to distract Niall.

“Everything!” Niall shouts, seemingly appalled by the question. “Lou, they’re amazing.” 

Louis takes a look around at the line and realizes it would be at least an hour until they get let inside. He makes the decision in a split second, grabs Niall and Zayn’s arms and drags them across the pavement to the front door. 

“You have to wait in line,” The man at the door states, not even batting an eye towards the three boys beside him. 

“How much does it cost to get in right now?” Louis asks, a smirk already forming on his face. He can hear Zayn sigh in annoyance, but he ignores it. Power was just too fun to not use sometimes. 

“Too much for a simple man like you to pay.” The man seems bored, as he opens the door to let a group inside, still not bothering to look at who he's talking to. 

“500?” Finally intrigued enough, the man lifts his head to Louis, a startled look on his face. 

“Where did you get 500 coins?” Louis doesn’t answer, just smiles as if waiting for the man to open the door.

Finally, he does, a bit hesitant at first, as if he’s waiting for Louis to say “just kidding! I have no money!” but, of course, that doesn’t happen.

“For your service.” He winks as he slips a substantial amount of coins (a bit more than 500) into the man's pocket and then walks into the pub without another word, Niall and Zayn following close behind. 

“I got you in,” Louis laughs, patting his hand on Niall’s back. Niall rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face contradicts it. 

The rest of the night is not so exciting for Louis. Zayn sits in the back quietly, and watches the band. Niall watches them for a bit, gets shitfaced, and then disappears for the rest of the night. Louis doesn’t waste time wondering where he is. 

Louis stays away from any alcohol, and instead spends his time avoiding conversations and leaning against cold walls to soothe his headaches. He hates headaches. He absolutely hates them. 

The lights flash viciously, there are people all around him, dancing, kissing, drinking. One looks half dead, another looks more alive than he’s seen anyone look ever. There are boys and girls and there’s even a parrot flying around at one point. It all reminds Louis of why he hates parties. Parties always remind Louis of why he hates parties. 

By the time the night has ended, Louis just wants to curl up in his bed and sleep for 24 hours straight. When he and Zayn walk out into the cold night air, he wishes even more that he was under a real blanket rather than the blanket of stars that’s above him. 

He doesn’t like stars. They look far too pretty when underneath all they are are huge balls of fire and gas. Louis is a firm believer in the idea that looks are often deceiving. 

Stars looked pretty, they would kill you if you got too close. A bear looks cute, but it would eat you if it was the least bit hungry. Water looks relaxing, but it would not hesitate to drown you. His mother looked like she was getting better, but then…

It’s too late at night for Louis to relive those memories so he shakes his head purposefully and diverts his attention back to his hangnail until they’ve finally made it back. Zayn is far too high to make it to his room on his own, so with a chuckle and a huff, Louis is half-carrying him through the halls, hoping they don’t look suspicious even though they most definitely do. 

Getting Zayn into bed is far harder than getting him through the halls. He laughs loudly at every move Louis makes, pouts when Louis threatens to leave, and will not sit still on the bed. Louis’ sure he even cries at one point. 

“I want to sleep, Zayn,” Louis complains, shoving his friend down onto the bed for the 5th time. 

“Headache?” Zayn reaches a hand up and touches Louis’ forehead gently, a small, worried smile on his lips. Zayn knows how much Louis hates headaches. 

“No, just tired because it’s 3am.” 

“Okay.” And with that, Zayn is finally laying down on his back. “Promise I won’t leave. You can go now.”

“Sweet dreams, Zayn,” Louis whispers, shutting of the light of the bathroom and then the light of the room. He hears a mumble in response and then closes the door. 

He takes a moment to breathe, tiredness sweeping over his body and begging him to just lay down and sleep right there on the floor. He wants to so badly, and he probably would’ve if it wasn’t for the tall figure rounding the corner and coming straight at him. 

* * *

(abuse themes from here on) 

\- 

  
“Where have you been all night?” His voice is loud, so, so loud. Louis can already feel a headache coming on. 

“With Zayn.” 

“In the Palace?” 

“Yes.” 

“You lying piece of shit.” His father points his finger accusingly in Louis’ face. “Don’t you dare lie to me ever again.” 

“Yes, sir.” Louis is far too tired to fight his father. He just wants this to be over. 

“You ever leave this castle when you’re not supposed to again, and I will make your life a living fucking Hell.” _You already do._ “You hear me, Louis Tomlinson?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“‘Yes sir’,” his father copies in a mocking tone, moving his head this way and that, getting closer to Louis as he does. “You’re a spineless little boy. Worthless, lying, spineless.” 

Louis stays silent, tears brimming his eyelids, but he knows crying will only make it worse so he sucks it up and keeps his head high. 

“Next time, I promise you,” it’s a whisper now, Louis’ indication that he was about to get threatened. “I will beat the shit out of you, Louis Tomlinson. That is a promise.” 

He turns to leave, muttering insults under his breath and shaking uncontrollably. 

Louis takes a few seconds to calm himself, ignoring the stares from the guards posted around the hallway. When he’s sure he can walk for a few minutes without crying, he sets off. 

Louis’ father has always been that way. Mad and threatening, towards his only son especially. He needed dominance, and when his superiority was threatened in even such a simple was as sneaking out, he would not stop until he felt as though he had re-asserted his dominance upon his son. Louis always took it well, he had learned to from a young age. Back then, he’d fight back, as any kid would, but that would only result in no food for a few days, or even sometimes a beating on his back. It took only a few months for him to realize it was better to sit back and take it, no matter how much it hurt to bite his tongue, it hurt a lot more not to. 

The cold sting from his words is still evident in Louis’ mind as he rounds the corner. He knows he’s only a few steps away from his room, and then he can finally let his guard down. 

As he’s about to walk through his door though, he feels his shoulder bump into someone else. His eyes are downcast at the floor so he isn’t sure who it was, but his guess is it’s his room guard, Markson, and Markson knows not to interfere when Louis is in a bad mood. 

He walks past quietly, not bothering to even look up. Markson wouldn’t care. Markson wouldn’t even bat an eye, he knew Louis enough to know Louis enjoyed silence. 

His hand is on the handle when he hears the voice. It’s a mans’ for sure, but it’s not Markson’s. This voice is not as deep and musty as Markson’s, it’s more soft and languid like a river of chocolate. It’s melty, and if Louis wasn’t in such a bad mood he might be intrigued to know who it was coming from. 

“Well, excuse you.”

 _Oh hell no._ Louis looks up and is met with bright green eyes, staring into his soul. The boy in front of him is much taller than he is, much broader, his hair is much silkier, but Louis cannot be intimidated. He’s a prince, a future king, and Louis’ sure if this boy knew so, he’d be on his knees begging for forgiveness. Louis wouldn’t mind seeing that actually. 

“Excuse _me_? Do you know who I am?” The boy smiles a little, a hint of mischief and humor glowing in his eyes. Louis can’t be sure why it’s there. Was he a thief? A spy? 

“I don’t, inform me if you’d please.” Louis rolls his eyes into the back of his head, but when he focuses again, this time it’s on the boy’s outfit. A guards uniform. 

The boy was a guard. Which means the boy surely knows who Louis is. _The fucking bastard._

“I’m your future king, your superior, so I suggest you stop the attitude,” Louis snaps, pointing at the badge on the boy's chest. “As a guard, you should know how to show a little respect, Harold.” The boy’s name, _Harold_ , was sprawled across the badge in little letters, just big enough to see. 

“Harry,” Harold says in response. 

“Hmm?” 

“You can call me Harry.” 

“I can call you whatever I want to,” Louis seethes, his voice on fire now, his eyes burning with the flames. If there was one thing Louis hated, it was being told what to do. He is fully capable of handling himself, he doesn’t need anyone else to give him instructions. It makes him feel inferior, and after a whole life of trying to prove to his father that he isn’t, it’s just natural to hate any type of order. Louis doesn’t really have it in him to fight though. His father had taken all the energy out of him, and now he just wants to be gone of this boy. “Where is Markson?” 

“Who?” 

“My guard, Markson.”

“Oh, oh, he was sent home. His mother passed away today, so he’s taking a leave for a few months. They sent me in his place.” Louis’ throat closes at Harry’s words, memories threatening to flood in his mind, but with a deep breath he pushes them away. No need to get emotional now, especially not in front of Harry. Now more than ever, he’s wishing to be alone.

“Great.” 

“Well, there’s some-” 

“No, no talking. I’m going to bed,” Louis waves his hand to signal that the night and their talk is over, but Harry doesn’t seem to take the hint. Or better yet, he takes it, he just ignores it. 

“No, Louis-”

“That’s ‘Your Majesty’ to you.” Truthfully, Louis hates when people call him ‘your Majesty’. It makes him feel like his father. He likes sir, or Mr.Tomlinson. Both the names still showed a level of superiority, but neither remind him of his father. There’s something about Harry though, that just makes Louis’ skin prick with anger, and he has a feeling correcting him is going to annoy him to pieces. 

“Why does it matter what I call you?” 

“So you can tell me what to call you, but not the other way around? Sounds like hypocrisy, Harold. Furthermore, I could get you killed for simply looking at me the wrong way, so I’d listen to my instructions.” 

“Further-?” There's a look of pure annoyance on Harry's face, and Louis isn’t sure why (but it has to do with Louis’ posh vocabulary). “Okay fine, your Highness, sir, Mr.,” there’s a mocking tone to Harry’s voice and Louis doesn’t miss that fact that Harry called him everything except what Louis had asked to be called, “There are safety measures I have to go over with you.” 

“I’ve heard them all before.” 

“Well, it’s customary to hear them again,” Harry snarls. It’s obvious he’s not having any fun anymore. The anger in his voice parallels the same anger Louis is feeling in his chest. Both of them can feel the tension and it’s clear if they don’t get away from each other something’s going to explode. 

“Leave me alone.” 

“Can you swallow your fucking ego for one second and listen? Or is your skull too thick?” Harry’s voice has risen. The bomb is ticking. 

“I could get you fucking beheaded for that.” Ticking. 

“Why don’t you then?” And boom.

“Piss off!” 

“Wanker!” 

“I’m your future fucking King!” 

“You’re no King.” And okay, Louis has had enough. Before any other words can be passed between them, Louis is slamming his bedroom door in Harry’s face. He can faintly hear a soft laughter come from the other side of the wall and is tempted to rip open the door and yell some more, but he withholds. 

Louis quickly undresses and gets under the covers, not bothering to wash his face. He’s still fuming, his skin is hot and his hands are bunched into fists. He had not been so mad in a long time. 

_You’re no King._ Who was this stupid guard boy to tell him what he was? What did he know? And why did it bother Louis so much? He can’t wrap his head around any of the questions, but after a long thought, figures sleep may help him calm down a bit and then he could figure out the answers. After all it is late, and he had another advisors meeting early tomorrow. 

With one last glare at the door, Louis falls asleep. 

-

Louis wakes up with a hole in his chest. A hole that had been burned through him in the middle of the night and it was filled with a flaming, crackling hatred for the boy who was probably standing right outside his door. 

Louis had tried to calm himself down as he slept. He thought that maybe he’d forgive and forget the words that had passed between him and Harry if he was able to get a good night’s rest. But here he was 9 hours of sleep later and all he wanted to do was strangle the boy.

It was a blind sort of hatred, with no real backing to it, but Louis was going to submit to it all the same. 

Niall’s hands swoop into Louis’ view and clutch the blanket so to rip it off him, but Louis growls and Niall withdraws his hands quickly, laughing at his friend’s grumpiness. “Calm down there, Buster.” 

“What does that even mean?” Louis groans turning on to his other side so he’s not facing his friend. Niall simply walks around the bed to face Louis. 

“I have no clue, but get up.”

“No.” Niall stays silent, and Louis thinks that maybe he’s won. He closes his eyes for a split second before Niall is whipping a pillow on his head. He should’ve known Niall wasn’t going to give him any peace. 

“Niall,” Louis grumbles, his eyes glaring daggers at the blonde boy in front of him. Niall isn’t phased (he gets these murderous looks from Louis at least once a day) and proceeds to keep hitting him on the head until Louis finally surrenders and sits up. 

Running a hand through his hair Louis talks to Niall about the night before. Not _his_ night before, Niall’s. Louis wasn’t exactly excited to talk about his encounter with H-, no, _that boy._ Niall however, being the chatterbox he was, was excitedly getting clothes out for Louis while animatedly telling a story about his night with a girl he had met at the pub and ran off with.

“Did you sleep with her?” Louis asks tiredly. Niall had a new obsession every week and most of the time once he slept with her he got over it quickly. Louis can’t count how many girls he’s heard in the halls gossiping about his friend. 

“No, I think this might actually be more than that for once.” Was Hell freezing over?

“Niall? You’re settling down? Never thought it’d happen,” Louis is quite surprised, and doesn’t even try to hide it, earning himself a middle finger in the face.

“Shut up, prick.” Louis laughs and returns the finger before finally sliding out of his bed. He grabs the clothes that Niall had chosen for him and quickly changes in the bathroom, making sure to run a brush and some gel through his hair so he could look at least a little professional. 

“Time?” Louis calls from the bathroom, checking his hair and outfit one last time. 

“9:58.” 

_Fuck._ Louis had exactly 2 minutes to get across the entire Palace. “You fucking dickhead!” 

“I tried to wake you up earlier!” Louis leaves, throwing a finger at Niall and crashing through the door. He bumps clumsily into Harry, not bothering to look behind himself even after Harry calls out to him. 

“No time to talk, Curly!” _Curly,_ Louis thinks. _Nice one._

He makes it to the meeting at 9:02, out of breath, his recently done hair completely ruined, and his tie not even done. Charles doesn’t bother to even look at him, but the rest of the advisor eye him for a second. He doesn’t care though, he quite likes the attention, so as he takes his seat next to his father he gives everyone a cheeky smirk.

As always, Louis doesn’t pay any attention to what is going on at the meeting. His father must be in a terrible mood because he doesn’t even bother to try and scare him, he just silently watches Louis stare off into space. 

Zayn quirks his eyebrows a few times, trying to get Louis’ attention, but failing each time. Louis is far too engrossed in his thoughts on the curly haired boy. 

By the end of the meeting though, Louis has come upon the decision that there are two ways to get Harry to leave (and he surely needed to leave):

  1. Dig up information and get him kicked out
  2. Do whatever it takes for him to leave on his own accord



And Louis has no energy to dig. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> well, that's it for now, i hope you liked it!! i tried to reference a few irl moments and i'll definitely be referencing more. the next chapter will hopefully be out in about a month but i can't promise anything with sats and ap testing coming up. i love you all, thank you !!


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